


The Naked Interview

by Luce_cm



Category: Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hollywood, Interviews, Past Relationship(s), Post-Break Up, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-08 20:23:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15937619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luce_cm/pseuds/Luce_cm
Summary: Sebastian and Y/N are introduced to a new format of interviewing as they go on the press tour of their incoming movie. The interview will bring out old feelings and ask the questions they didn’t dare ask themselves.





	The Naked Interview

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first RPF work, and I feel weird about it. Idk. I like it, I really do, and the idea has been going around in my head for weeks now. I just feel weird writing about real people. Welp, here I go hehe.
> 
> Also, fake social media posts were made for this fic! You can find them here https://bucky-is-a-hero-fightme.tumblr.com/post/176209718654/special-thanks-to-marvelousfakesocialmedia-for

You are shown into the private room by a girl from the staff, opening the door to reveal a pretty simple set-up, looking more like a living room than an interview set. You shake away the imbalance that gives you, walking inside with a big smile. The ‘stage’ smile.

“Well, well,” You muse as you walk towards Sebastian and the interviewer, “When my agent called and told me I had to do a Naked Interview with Sebastian Stan this was definitely not what I had in mind.”

The blonde that was seconds ago looking through her papers and notes before starting to interview you rose her gaze to you with a sly smile. Reporter through and through.

You knew the cameras would be on, your publicist had warned you about it. This paper was going for 'authenticity’ and apparently this interview was all about that, including every dirty trick in the book.

“Disappointed?” She asked, to which you answered by simply waving your hand and pointing at Sebastian’s whole body.

“Yes.” You dramatically intoned, prompting them both to laugh.

They start the interview with the usual greetings, no mentions of your past relationship, for which you thank whoever is ready to listen.

The questions are simple enough, what you are used to by now, having been promoting this movie for two weeks by now. She goes back and forth between you and Sebastian, asking very superficial questions.

The interviewer turns your way, asking about your experience as this is your first time being cast as the main role in a big movie, to which you smile and nod, quipping in about how weird it was to see your face looking so big in the posters. She laughs a little in response, before congratulating you and Sebastian for the movie and wishing you success. The cameras are turned off, as you smile in thanks, still feeling this was too short and you did not feel at all the 'authenticity’ they were looking for.

But then the blonde gets up, and is handled a small wooden box that you are quite familiar with.

“Oh, is that a prop?” You ask excitedly, before turning to Sebastian with a  big smile on your face, “Seba, is the letter box!”

You try not to notice the way your heart skips a bit when he returns your smile with one of his own, his eyes shining a bit more under the light as the creases around them get deeper.

The interviewer clears his throat, effectively calling back your attention, and giving the box to you.

“Yes. Considering how sentimental and authentic were the letters that were kept in Manuela’s original box, and how it was replicated by your team so it could mean just as much in the big screen, we decided to add a little symbolism to the second part of our interview.”

“Second part?” Sebastian asks, still watching you from the corner of his eye as you trace your fingers over the ridges and markings on the letter box.

The producer steps ahead, “Yes. We told you we are aiming for authenticity here, so we have saved a bunch of fan’s usernames in the box, that you will take out. A video of their question will play on the monitor, and you have to answer. You will be left alone in the room with the cameramen, no mediator this time.”

“Oh,” You mumble, habit winning over logic as you meet your eyes with that of your ex-boyfriend. You can sense his apprehension, and you feel quite insecure about this yourself. But you still smile, turning to the producer, “Does the 'naked’ mean I have to take something off if I don’t want to answer? 'Cause I’m down for that. Don’t know about my agent though.”

__

You were arranged in front of one another on the couches, two wooden boxes between you, one for your questions and another for his, and the set almost empty. It felt strange, it felt like an intervention or a forced therapy session. It felt strange, all in all.

“Should I start?” Sebastian asked, crinkling his nose a little, visibly uncomfortable.

You smiled, and nodded, “Please.”

_Why does this feel so formal? It feels like I’m talking to my cousin’s childhood-friend’s doctor, and not the man I dated for almost two years._

You watched as he rummaged through the little papers inside his box, taking one and reading aloud the name.

A young boy, around his late teens, smiled at the camera as a Mexican flag decorated his background. You immediately smiled widely, even though he would not see until the interview was released.

He cleared his throat and asked, “Y/N, how did it feel portraying a character of Latin American independence when you are Hispanic but left Latin America?”

You blinked, trying to keep up the smile,

“Woah, the surely don’t start soft, do they?”

Sebastian smiled at you softly, and you would’ve sworn you saw his arm stretched towards you from the corner of your eye, before he pulled it back, “You don’t have to answer.”

“Seba, you don’t have any say in it,” You laughed, and took a deep breath before starting to explain how incredibly humbling it was to take on her mantle and play such a strong woman and someone who was such a symbol to the independence of not only your country and so many others, but also women in general. You went on a little about how you felt a lot closer to home while filming, considering the Latino cast and the closeness you felt to your character as a Latina away from home yourself.

It felt odd, doing an interview like this. As you were seated one in front of the other, and aside from the fans popping in and out of the monitor screen, you were all alone. It felt as if you were confessing all these personal feelings about your past and your character to him and not an audience.

_Oh…good tactic, Naked Interview people._

Drinking a bit of water to dissolve the knot in your throat, you rose your eyebrows in Seb’s direction.

“Your turn,” You teased, hand already inside your box, “And it better make you cry or I’m out.”

He laughed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he crossed his fingers together. When you stopped what you were doing to ogle at him, you don’t remember.

“Just read the name, Y/N.”

“Okay, okay. Don’t rush perfection,” You mumbled, taking out the piece of paper, “Sebastian, here is your user.”

A dark-haired woman around her mid-thirties smiled at the camera and asked, “Sebastian, do you feel James Thorne was a redeemable man?”

You saw him frown slightly as the air left his lungs in a huff, and he rubbed his hands together before answering.

__

_You had been pretending for months now that everything was alright, that there was no awkwardness,no lingering feelings. It was more tiring than you thought it would be._

_But there’s this little whisper of what used to be, stuck in your head every time you film a scene together, everytime you wrap up filming for the day or the week and a sudden part of you forgets that your routine no longer includes_ him _._

_This little voice whispers, everytime you discuss a portion of the script with one of your castmates or anyone on the staff or production; about the long nights spent going over the initial script, stretched out on the couch of your apartment, your legs set over your lap as his hand runs absently over your calf; or his back to your chest, chestnut locks running like water between your fingers as you tell him about what you remember of Independence celebrations in your country._

_That little voice reminds you of the hours spent talking about James’ and Manuela’s relationship as you readied yourselves to sign the contract for the biopic, of the day you decided to read what was left of all her letters to him and to Simon and from them to her, and cried about how someone with such a good heart could lose everything because of people sitting in thrones on the other side of the ocean; and then Seba’s teasing_

_about how you said in your half-asleep state that Manuela was your Batman, not the hero you deserved but the one you needed._

_You ignore that voice, that faded image of something that slipped from your fingers. You ignore it, you focus on work. You pretend not to feel anything else._

_Because that voice also reminds you of how you decided not to fight for him anymore. About how you were the one to ask for some time away from each other, about how you were the one to say goodbye finally and definitely once the world decided to start telling you what your relationship was all about._

__

“He…he fell in love with her, I think. It was an arranged marriage, and he was so much older than her, but there had to be some semblance of love in him to turn a blind eye to the fact that she was smuggling secrets with her lover. There’s even several letters, some of them made it to the film, that reveal how he begged her to come back to him, and her insistence that what she wanted of him was a friend, that she loved Simón and the revolution more than…” He trailed off, thinking of the words in Spanish, and a proud smile curved your lips.

“ _Su querido inglés_ ,” You provided, and nodded at Sebastian when he pointed at his own box, ready to ask you your next question.

A few more questions were asked about the film, touching on Manuela and James’ relationship, Manuela’s work as a women’s rights activist, and your feelings towards your characters.

You had been assured by your agent that the interview was known to be quite long, and that maybe some questions would be edited out, so you weren’t worried about the time at all. You reached for Sebastian’s user to question him, and before reading it out loud, you leaned back on the couch, musing out loud,

“You know, it’s weird no questions about our relationship have come up.”

You laughed a little under your breath when he choked up and coughed a couple of times, eyeing you with a smirk that told him how he knew you were messing with him.

A girl popped up on the screen, big smile on her face.

“Hey guys. Personal question,” She started, and Sebastian pointed at you with a smile that made the lines around his eyes more prominent.

“You jinxed it.” He accused, to which you replied by scrunching your nose and sticking out your tongue in defiance.  

The girl continued, “How did it feel, working together as close as you did, after you broke up?”

“Well, that isn’t intrusive at all.” You mumbled, taking a sip of your water.

The actor before you ran a hand through his hair and looked up at you with an uncomfortable smile on his face.

“Weird. Once we started playing the character of course none of whatever happened between us matters. But, it was strange at the beginning. Like, I don’t either of us knew where to stand,”

He thought the next part of his answer for a couple of seconds before blurting out, surprising you, and, you assume, giving both of your agents a heart attack.

“We didn’t actually break up,” He confessed, grimacing after hearing his own words. “I mean, we are not together, but…we never said the words, did we?,” He looked at you, expecting a response, you nodded slowly. Sebastian sighed, before continuing, “It’s…complicated.”

__

_You dropped your bag by the floor next to the hotter room door, rubbing a hand over your eyes before cursing at yourself for smearing makeup all over your eyes._

_With a sigh, you walked towards the bathroom, taking the clothes you readied before going out to film, and grabbing your cell-phone on the way there._

_It felt odd, unbalancing, to put an end to your day without talking to Seba, but you two had agreed to take some time off to keep the strain of your busy work lives away from your relationship. Still going from talking each night, for at least a few seconds and rushed 'I-love-you’s; to not being able to talk at all, it was taking a toll on you._

_You only hoped to come out stronger from all of this._

_It was only less than two months when the news started appearing, everywhere. Rumors about the break-up, opinions thrown left and right about why 'Marvel’s golden couple’ would break it off._

_And the person you talked about your relationship with at the end, was not him, but your agent. You explained her the whole thing, and though as a friend she told you to reach out to Sebastian and talk to him, to work out together what your relationship had come to; as a publicist she told you waiting for everything to cool down was the best way to go._

_And a couple of months of no talking became two more, and when a small and simple message from him, asking to meet up to talk about…everything; you swallowed past the part of you that told you to fight for it, and the instinct to get away before you got hurt won._

_You still remembered the last argument. The tears, the resentment and the will to keep fighting but the need to give up. You knew you weren’t strong enough to go through it again._

I think we both made our choice a while ago, Seba.

_The reply was instantaneous. A call you rejected and a single message after it._

Do you really mean that?

_You never answered. PR handled the rest, and when you got asked about your relationship by a passer-by reporter on one of your outings with Lizzie, you smiled and said breaking up was for the best._

__

“Yeah…complicated.” You repeated, thrumming your fingers on your dress-covered legs, before signaling for Sebastian to ask you your question.

A heartfelt question about the reaction of your country and the film community in it to have you represent such an important Latina all the way in Hollywood, that you answered with a big smile, but pausing to drink water a couple of times to swallow past the know on your throat. Again.

The pixie-looking person that asked Sebastian the next question smiled widely as they waved at the camera, and told you they had been a fan of both you and Seb since you performed together in Civil War.

Placing a strand of short hair behind their ear, they asked, “So how different is the cast from the Marvel family? Are you all close or is it more like everyone goes their way?”

Sebastian laughed and shook his head,

“It can’t be each on their own. If I’m left alone in any country we are filming in, I get lost in the first five seconds.”

You leaned forward with an expressive,

“Yes! You have no idea how many times I have thought I had to call your mom to tell her I lost her impressionable son because he wouldn’t stay still and can’t talk Spanish to save his life.”

“And despite the possibility of losing me in the middle of Guadalajara or somewhere else, it’s still a great group of people to work with,” He continued, “It became a really close group as the months went by.”

____

_You had been doing great. Manuela’s story had drawn you in completely, and considering most days the shooting was wrapped up pretty late, time to consider your situation was not really available. Which you thanked the heavens for._

_But then the first day filming Manuela’s fight scene against the assassins comes, and yes, the nerves are again curling at your stomach, because jumping from a balcony, no matter how many stunts you pulled in your time with Marvel, never gets less terrifying._

_But then you saw Sebastian along with who is supposed to play Simón and his stunt double, smiling in his normal clothes like he was supposed to be there._

“ _Hey,” You approached, easy smile on your face. “I thought James’ scenes were done for?”_

_Sebastian loweeds his gaze to the floor for a second, strained smile on his lips, and you felt a spark of…doesn’t matter what._

“ _Yeah, they are. But I heard you were doing the fight scene today and I thought…maybe I could come here and offer support?”_

_The young man in the Libertador outfit smiled at your ex-boyfriend, clapping a hand on his shoulder,_

“ _You mean another one to worry about our girl busting her ass on the fall?” He teased, and if it weren’t for how the hopeful part of you, the eternal romantic still somewhere inside you replaying Sebastian’s words, you would have risen to the bait._

_Because you remembered the long days at the studio, Domino’s costume on and muscles aching. You remembered Seba’s easy smile, your complaints about how he was only there to see you get your ass beat by Chadwick. You remembered his reassurance that he only wanted to see you were safe, and the soft press of lips against your own._

_You remembered your first date being on his trailer in between shots, a bag of ice on your knee and a busted lip smiling his way when he told you he couldn’t wait another day to take you out, even if it was the day you miscalculated the force of Black Panther’s double’s hits._

_You heard him laugh, but you were still trying to quieten your heart and tell it to stop hoping._

“ _Well, she has always been prone to accidents.”_

____

A couple more about how you got along on set with everyone else, one or two about the reality behind the letters and documents shown in the movie, when the cameramen told you that you could wrap up after one or two more.

Another fan with a question for you, this time a young girl with blonde air smiling shyly at the camera.

“So…hi, didn’t think I was gonna win actually,” She giggled, and you smiled in understanding. Again, even though they could not see it. “So here’s my question. Sorry. How different was it going from filming for Marvel for so long while you were together and then filming this? Sorry.”

Memories clouded your mind, of the days before work became too much, before life became too much and hanging onto one another was more of an obligation than a decision.

Those memories took over you, making your heart race and too many pieces of advice, from friends, colleagues, the people handling this movie and even the people handling your fucking relationship repeat themselves in your head. About smiling politely when asked a rude question about the breakup, about keeping calm when receiving horrible backlash from your own fans because your life can’t be only your own, about telling everyone, even yourself, that it was the best for the both of you.

But you were tired of that. You were tired of the 'stage smile’, of having lost one of the best people you have met since leaving home chasing a dream, of pretending the only emotions you are in touch with are fictional characters’.

So you took a deep breath, and started.

“It was different, no use in lying. The first and only movie I filmed with Seba as while we just started to fall in love, and we decided when we were already living together to take on this movie. The fact that life fell apart around us in between was a…casualty we didn’t account for.

You cleared your throat, and lowered your eyes to your hands. For an instant, you waited for Sebastian to chip in, say something agreeing with you and giving you the out of ending the answer. He didn’t, so you went on.

“It was jarring at first, wrapping up, getting ready to go home or to the hotel or whatever and not having him next to me, having him to talk to about our day and what we thought about everything and nothing. I mean…there was a lot, I think, that I took for granted, or didn’t account for, and only realized it was gone when…well when it was gone.”

You sniffed a little, running your hands gently under your eyes to get rid of the tears before they kept falling down your cheeks.

You breathed a laugh at yourself as you pat with your fingers against your skin, trying to even out the make up the tears erased. Rolling your eyes at yourself, you mumbled, “And now I’m crying on the internet. Great day, Y/N.

You turned your eyes to Seb, smiling a little his way.

“Most people don’t have to spend every day with the person they broke up with for months so shortly after they split up, not even in our industry I think. And I guess it hurt more than I let on. But I wouldn’t trade working alongside you for the world, Seba.” You assured him your smile turning surer, more even, as your heart settled back into your chest.

He smiled back your way and extends his hand. Without hesitation, you took it, squeezing once and ready to let go after that, but he seemed to hold on to it.

“I know. I also want you, and whoever is going to watch this mess, to know that you are one of the best people I’ve met. You are amazingly talented, and I am lucky to be working with you. I am even more lucky to one day have been someone you decided to love, and I want you to remember that.

When he choked up a little, stopping whatever he had started to say, you squeezed his hand and let your eyes find his through the mist of your own tears.

He continued, “You…whatever didn’t work between us doesn’t matter. We were happy once, and I think we should remember that. I loved you and I think I always will, and I want nothing more than you being happy, because you deserve it.

You paid attention to the slight movement of his jaw, and almost two years together told you he was about to cry too. You squeezed his hand again.

“And I know I can be a lot to handle most of the time, and I want you to kn…” You couldn’t handle it anymore, you were seeing every insecurity he had about your relationship, his job and your life together resurface and you couldn’t believe you thought for all those months hthat e was okay with all that happened between you and how things ended.

“Seba, no…”

You reached to stand up when you felt the wire of the microphone on your back, and you remembered where you were. Turning to the cameraman, you said, “Excuse me, can you cu-…”

But they weren’t there. They had been the only thing left of the team for the interview, but they were long gone from the set. Frowning, you turned to Sebastian, only to see him still sitting on his side of the couch, heel of his hand pressing against his eye, the other one still holding on tightly to yours.

At your confused expression, he shrugged and explained, “I asked them to go when you started tearing up. I know you don’t like people seeing you cry.

You huffed something between a laugh and a sob, and started shaking your head. This only seemed to set him on edge, instead of letting him know you were thankful for his thoughtfulness. Sebastian wrapped his other hand over the one he was already holding, tugging you a little closer.

With you standing up, he had to look up to have his eyes meet yours.

“Listen, I’m sorry I’m telling you all of this now, but the tour is almost over, and I _know_ I should’ve said something before but I don’t wanna lose-…mfph.”

You stopped his rant by throwing your arms around his shoulders, hiding your wet face in the crook of his neck,

“I know, Seba, I know.”

His arms wrapped around your waist and back, holding you close, and you felt as if you were taking the first unobstructed breaths oi months.

After a few minutes, you broke apart and you reached up to straighten the collar of his shirt with a smile as one of his hands still lingered on your waist.

“So…” You mused, eyes glued to the piece of clothing you pretended you want to fix, “What do you say about coffee?”

___

**Author's Note:**

> The social media posts were made by the amazing @marvelousfakesocialmedia on Tumblr!
> 
> If you liked it please leave any sort of review, even if it is just a comment on anon or smth. I wanna know if I should write more of these, how to improve, anything. Thank you.
> 
> Thank you for reading! I love you!  
> Love, Luce


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